


Telperion and Laurelin

by Ulan



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 10:12:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5865319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ulan/pseuds/Ulan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two Elves stood prominently in Elrond's life, brighter than any others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Elrond had known Erestor all his life. 

He was born in the havens of Arvernien at the Mouths of Sirion, where the refugees of Doriath, from which Erestor hailed, joined with those who remained from fallen Gondolin. Erestor had served as one of Thingol's senior advisors and later Dior's, loyal as he was to the throne and legacy of Doriath. 

Elrond was young yet when the attack happened at the havens. He barely remembered his mother entrusting him and his brother Elros to Erestor at the time, but the sons of Feänor were able to overpower him and wrestle the young brothers from his grasp. 

It was Maglor, the second brother, who took them in and cared for them. They stayed with him a few years before Erestor found them. Erestor, it turned out, had been searching for them ever since the attack, and sought for tidings of them all that time. He demanded for their return at first, but Maglor refused. Recognizing that he had not the strength to go against a son of Feänor, Erestor instead offered the other his services, and requested that he stay on as a tutor to Elrond and Elros.

It should have been, in hindsight, a peculiar thing that Maglor accepted Erestor's offer. Looking back, Elrond could say that loneliness was probably as good a reason as any as to why anyone might want to take another into his home. Maglor had one last remaining brother at the time, but the two brothers lived apart, and Maedhros was ever away for many months. Maglor, on the other hand, had never been much for travelling, nor did he have the heart for the endless skirmishes of war, and he followed his brother only when necessity called for it. Now, with Elrond and Elros under his care, he had more reason to stay home.

Elrond grew up with Maglor as his primary parental figure; the Feänorian son taught them music, the arts, as well as swordfighting and sports. Erestor had also been a prominent figure then, and taught Elrond and Elros their numbers and their languages, their history and lore. Mostly, however, he held himself to be lower than Maglor, and did not usurp the twins' affections for him, for whatever ill feelings Erestor felt for their captor, he was true to his word and would not betray him so long as he was in the other's service. 

Elrond and Elros, too young then to understand the weight of their situation, grew to love Maglor, for he was kind to them, gentle and loving much like any father. It was an affection the older Elf returned tenfold, and they were happy in each other's company. This, Erestor seemed to recognize and did not go against, although sometimes Elrond would catch him watching Maglor with a strange expression in his eyes, one that spoke of sadness and a tinge of anger that Elrond did not then understand, and sometimes, something else that Elrond understood even less. Maglor, for his part, watched Erestor as well. His gaze was also filled with sadness, but for him there was no anger, and whatever else Elrond did not understand in Erestor, he saw also in Maglor even more. His foster father's eyes always lingered upon their tutor, but always also he would do nothing and just eventually look away, heaving a great sigh. 

As a child, Elrond used to think that there was great similarity between Maglor and Erestor. They both seemed to love the same things, have similar opinions on the same things, and laughed at the same jokes Elrond and Elros made. Sometimes, they even seemed to read what the other was thinking, for things went on around them and decisions were reached with nary a word exchanged. They seemed to have the potential for a great friendship if only they attempted it, and Elrond had wondered if the two elders knew this as well, and if so, why they did not pursue it.

Again, he was too young then, and no one yet told him about the things that Erestor could not forgive, whatever he eventually thought and felt about Maglor. It was only much later that Elrond realized that thrice did Erestor feel the pain of the kinslayings: the first among his kin at Alqualondë, heard for the first time in Menegroth during one of the visits of the children of Finarfin; the second in Doriath, when Dior, his king, was killed; and the third at the havens at the Mouths of Sirion, where Elrond and his brother had been captured as children too young to understand.

But as the years passed, Elrond saw the way Maglor would sometimes reach for Erestor. In the evenings, when they have put Elrond and Elros to bed, he would ask Erestor if he would provide him his company and sit with him by the fire, for he wished to talk a while. Sometimes, Erestor would give it; sometimes, he would not. 

Then, began the Great War, in which Elros had wanted to fight. Elrond went with him, as did Erestor, but Maglor remained with his brother Maedhros, and came not with them. For years they were parted, but when it was over, Elros led them home. They were reunited again for some time, but they sensed a shadow that weighed on Maglor upon their return, and he was always in quiet counsel with Maedhros. Soon after that the two brothers were gone, and were gone for a long time. 

When Maglor came home, his hands were burned, his face white and his eyes sunken. He then told them to leave and never to return, as they should have done the moment they left for the Great War, as he had expected. There was nothing for them there, he said, and that although he felt a fleeting joy at their return, it was soon weighed down by the darkness in his heart, the curse on his head, and now the judgment upon his hands. He was now weary with life, and wished to wander through it alone.

Erestor had looked at him for a long time, but soon enough he stood up to pack their belongings. Elros had been furious with Erestor, then later with Maglor, and Elrond had cried like he never cried in his life. Both twins had clung then to Maglor's robes, crying and beseeching for him to change his mind, to let them heal him from whatever pain he carried. Elros, who apparently recognized the things between their guardians as much as Elrond had, even implored Erestor to influence Maglor from his decision, claiming that only Erestor could do so if he and Elrond could not. They all looked at Erestor then, even Maglor, although Elrond remembered there being a great sadness and defeat in his foster father's eyes when he turned his gaze to his long-time companion. Something happened between the two at that moment, a silent coversation, it had seemed to Elrond, before Erestor decreed that they were leaving. Maglor had only closed his eyes then and nodded, as if he understood. 

They never saw him again after that day. Elros could not forgive Erestor, believing that the elder could have prevented their parting, but chose not to, and thus doomed Maglor to his fate. Erestor then spoke about his decision for the first and the last time, saying, "For love of you, and what love I foolishly hold for him, I will not tarnish how you see him. But what wisdom I have been given tells me to go, for there is no hope back in that place, not for you two, only despair. In time, you may understand, but even if you would not, my counsel and decision remains."

Elrond knew that Elros searched for their foster father for a long time, but never found him. And so, there was only the three of them, then later two, when Elros chose the path of Men. It was yet another one of the many losses that Elrond knew, for he grieved deeply Elros' decision, though he understood. His brother had always been the one more fiery of heart, passionate and brave, and he looked ever on for things beyond what even Elrond could see. He also held great love for Men, with whom he fought in the Great War, and his heart was drawn to them in a way that Elrond's own heart could not follow. Sometimes, Elrond also wondered if Maglor played any part in Elros' decision. They knew that with his refusal to face the Valar for whatever sin he carried, he would not sail nor wish to fade and be reborn in the Halls of Mandos. He would remain in Middle-Earth, wandering it until the end, after which no one knew what his fate would be, save that he repent and go West. Had he been given the same choice, Elrond knew he would have given everything to be granted the Gift of Men, and drift away to a world beyond the plains of Arda. 

And so it was that it became just he and Erestor for a long time. Together, they entered the High King Ereinion Gil-galad's service, who took them in for his kinship with Elrond and the friendship the House of Finarfin still held for the Elves of Doriath. 

Elros' regular letters gave comfort to Elrond, and soon he no longer grieved as often about their parting, for he seemed to sense his brother's contentment and joy with his life in Numenor. So instead his thoughts often strayed to the Elf he had come to know as his father, and whether he wandered still, whether he had shelter above his head when the cold of winter and the rains came. 

Sometimes, too, he thought about his other father, which was how he had eventually come to regard Erestor. Elrond was never certain whether Erestor left Maglor because he still held a grudge against him, or because somehow he understood the hopelessness in the other's eyes, which Elrond only saw in hindsight, and only understood many years afterward when his own anger over their parting had subsided, and he knew more about the truth surrounding the one he so loved. These things he found out from others, others who did not hold their tongue the way Erestor did against the sons of Feänor. That was when his vision cleared, and he finally understood and found it in his heart to forgive Erestor, who stood by him all that time, waiting for his forgiveness. 

Soon enough, he also saw how Erestor's eyes would still often stray northwest, toward the edge of Middle-Earth, on its shores overlooking where great Beleriand used to be. It was how Elrond knew that he was not alone in his thoughts, nor was his heart alone in its grieving.


	2. Chapter 2

Glorfindel's coming seemed to Elrond like a burst of sunshine after the longest nights. 

The reborn Elf-lord's arrival was a surprise and a source of wonder to all. As one of the older lords and heroes of the First Age, certainly one of the most beloved as well, he came and delivered everything that the legends about him promised in their books and histories. He was great in stature and stood among the tallest in Lindon. His hair, his namesake and for which he was most known, was as golden as they said it was, and his fair face shone with the light of Aman, brightest among anyone Elrond ever knew. He came as an emissary of Manwë, carrying with him the wisdom and comfort of the Valar, and he brought them much joy, hope, and a great gift of songs. 

Elrond was already Ereinion's herald then, so he was one of the first to find out about Glorfindel's arrival. They were in council for a long time, the three of them, in which Glorfindel imparted the purpose of his coming. A darkness looms above Middle-Earth, he said, which he knew that other Elves could also see, but they knew not what to do. They must prepare, he said, for it was only a matter of time before their long peace was broken again. 

These things never left that council room, but the plans that were made there were moved into action. Elrond was to remain as herald, but given that the role required him to go from Lindon to other realms to represent the High King, it had been decided that the leading of the army must go to Glorfindel. It was a relief to let go of such a responsibility, for Elrond's heart had never been for the military, yet he did so for love and loyalty to Ereinion. 

Watching Glorfindel lead was a revelation. He had a way about him that called all eyes to him, and when all attention was on him, he exercised the most uncanny strength of influence that Elrond had ever seen. Elves wished to follow him, was glad to march to his orders, and it was as if new life was breathed into the hearts of the warriors, and what strength was in Glorfindel's hands, he now spread through the vast armies of Lindon. Yet ever was Glorfindel loyal to Ereinion, and he represented the High King as much as Elrond did as his herald, and he moved everyone around him toward the will and heart of the king, and never for loyalty toward himself. At this, Elrond also marveled, for it was as if Glorfindel was without pride or ambition, no wish for anything to benefit himself, save only to act in the way that was needed from him. 

Alone in his free time, without the weight of Lindon and the mission set upon him by the Valar, Glorfindel was, as Elrond found, a merry sort of Elf, quick to find where the minstrels were, or where stories were shared. He also had a fondness for books, and ever did he wander about the libraries of Lindon, as well as perusing maps of the lands throughout the two ages, endlessly fascinated with all things he could learn. 

But what struck Elrond most of all when it came to Glorfindel was how the Elf-lord looked at him in turn, as if in wonder. Glorfindel seemed to be most fond of Elrond, and would often say how he had Tuor's face, if not his coloring. He said he also recognized young Eärendil in Elrond, how they had the same eyes and nose, although perhaps his cheeks, mouth and ears were Elwing's. It turned out that Glorfindel met them in Valinor, and was even among the host that came to Middle-Earth during the Great War. 

With this came the realization that this was not, in fact, the first time that Glorfindel stepped upon Middle-Earth after his death, but he said all these things as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about them. On the contrary, Elrond was surprised at how quickly Glorfindel must have been reborn in Valinor, and what good he must have done to be the one sent to them now. Yet Glorfindel never lingered in stories about himself, and chose instead to talk about other things, particularly Eärendil. He marvelled, he said, at how Eärendil had moved the whole of Aman to action, how he moved the Valar to mercy toward their plight. It was the most awe-inspiring thing he had ever witnessed, Glorfindel said, and that Elrond must be so proud to be his son, whose ship now moved across their sky every night, bearing the Light of the Trees within the Silmaril he carried. 

The truth of the matter was that Elrond never saw himself as his father's son. He remembered little of Eärendil, for he was but a babe when his father left for his voyage, and young still when his mother left with the Silmaril. For as long as he could remember, he saw himself as the son of Maglor, the singer and gentle-hearted, son of Feänor. But that night, he dreamed of an Elf-lord with light golden hair, whose face was bright and shining, smiling down upon him, mouth moving though Elrond heard not what he said. He knew upon waking that it was a memory, one from a long time ago, in Arvernien where he was born.

It was also at this time that Elrond approached Erestor and asked him many things about his mother Elwing, for all this talk about his father led him also to thoughts about his mother. This was how Elrond received the brightest smile he ever received from Erestor, whose loyal heart ever drew him back to the love he carried for the lords and ladies to whom he had pledged his service. They spoke for a long time after that, and Elrond learned of his mother's courage, her beauty and kind heart, and how strongly Luthien's strength and loyalty lived in her. Erestor told him of how he saw these things, too, strongly in Elros, and in ways more subdued in Elrond, who was the more quiet one, but no doubt with a heart as hardy and steadfast as any of Luthien's children. 

And so it was that Glorfindel's coming held much meaning to many Elves in the Second Age. For Elrond, such meaning was less political, more personal, for it was the first time he ever felt that he was the son of his parents. 

Since then as well, he never again looked at Glorfindel without seeing his father Eärendil. Glorfindel's hair was deep gold while his father's had been lighter, but Glorfindel often spoke of how the hearts of multitudes hearkened to Eärendil's calls, and Elrond could not help but compare it to the way Glorfindel did the same to them in Lindon. He saw the love, deep admiration, and overwhelming pride that this Elf-lord, who himself inspired great awe and respect from all corners of Eriador, held for Elrond's father, and for the first time in Elrond's life, he was drawn to claim what kinship he had with Eärendil the Mariner. With Glorfindel's stories, words of encouragement, and his many comparisons between Elrond and his kin in Gondolin, Elrond finally used and felt pride toward his true name: Elrond Half-Elven, son of Eärendil.


	3. Chapter 3

Glorfindel had taken to Erestor immediately in Lindon. It drew many a raised eyebrow, including Elrond's, and not without much amusement, for the two lords were every bit as different from the other. Solemn Erestor, steadfast and true, but ever in the shadows in his blacks and silvers, his cold logic and rarely seen humor, was chased tirelessly by golden and ever-bright Glorfindel, whom everybody loved at the first moment of his coming, and whose mere presence was an announcement and call to all.

Erestor had at first been hesitant and wary of the newly arrived lord and, upon realizing Glorfindel's intentions, turned him down immediately, claiming that he had no use nor desire for love. Glorfindel, however, seemed not to understand such a claim, and to Erestor's chagrin, embarked on a campaign to change the senior counselor's mind about the whole matter. 

It became, for the longest time, fodder for Lindon's gossip mill, much to the delight of its residents. Ever did the two lords draw attention wherever they went, be it alone or together, especially Glorfindel, and so did the unfolding drama between them pique the interest of those around them. Both were stubborn and were strong in their convictions, so many thought that the two lords stood at an impasse, for it seemed to them that what they were witnessing was a battle between equals, each with the mind and skill that could turn any lesser Elf to their cause.

Elrond, for his part, had long learned that Glorfindel's wise eyes saw many things that few could see. He seemed to recognize something in Erestor that made him insist upon the other's affections, as if it was from he alone that Glorfindel could ever receive such things. Suggestions for him to look elsewhere were met with utter confusion, which shone openly from those expressive blue eyes. It reminded Elrond of those legends, the great romances that were penned and even made into song. He wondered if Glorfindel subscribed to the ideas of soul-bonding, and whether he saw Erestor as his other half. He certainly acted as if he did, for despite Erestor's repeated rejections and the hurt Elrond and all others saw this caused in Glorfindel, Glorfindel never wavered, and sought always to please Erestor with gifts and songs, and offered his companionship though it was never sought, but which Elrond saw was often needed. 

Uncannily, Glorfindel seemed to know how to be with Erestor, so that although Erestor constantly seemed annoyed, he was never truly angry, and he was never brought to a point that would make him send Glorfindel away. Glorfindel seemed to know how to be equal parts firm, else the senior counselor would wrestle his way out of encounters, and gentle, for chains and coercion had ever been Erestor's bane. For all his loud and cheerful ways, Glorfindel knew when to be silent, and knew when it was a day to sit quietly beside Erestor and offer his friendship, and not push his suit.

As for Erestor, for all his protesting and nearly scandalized reactions to Glorfindel's loud and conspicuous ways, Elrond knew that Erestor held for Glorfindel a grudging sort of fondness and deep respect. He recognized Glorfindel's achievements, his abilities and his skills, the things that he knew and the wisdom of his words, and always the unabiding loyalty he had for his king. Erestor admired all these things, for such were the things that counted to him. But most importantly, Glorfindel had the same gentle spirit that Erestor seemed to recognize and was drawn to in others - the very same, in fact, that drew him to Maglor long ago. The key difference now, however, was how Glorfindel had kept his hands without stain, for he fought only for the higher purpose of the Valar. It seemed everything Glorfindel was was how things were supposed to be, that he made all the right decisions when Maglor had not. He marched with the host of Fingolfin even up to Alqualondë, but even there he had kept his hands clean, though he never took pride in this for he counted himself among that host, and took their actions and misdeeds as his own, even though no one else did.

No one else knew Erestor more than Elrond did, so it was only he who saw the way Erestor would curiously look at Glorfindel, as if seeing something in him as well, but he could not understand nor believe it himself. It was this reticence that stretched theirs to be a courtship that unfolded long and slowly, but never had there been any doubt as to the state of Glorfindel's affections. For all Erestor's coldness and repeated refusal, Glorfindel did not give him, nor anyone for that matter, any cause to doubt him and his intentions. Soon enough, Elrond saw Erestor thawing, and his gaze began to soften whenever they went to Glorfindel.

Elrond knew that it was Glorfindel's coming that slowly healed Erestor from what wounds he inflicted on himself when he turned his back to one whom he and the twins he cared for loved. Glorfindel brought with him the kind of light that chased even the darkest thoughts away, the kind that called even someone as old and deep in shadow as Erestor to step out and look, and look Erestor eventually did. Thus captured, Erestor's eyes Glorfindel trained only to himself - insistently, possessively, lovingly. Glorfindel somehow seemed to recognize that Erestor's heart had been elsewhere all that time, but convinced as he was by their joint fate, this only seemed to sadden and confuse him, and he sought ever for Erestor's eyes to stay with him, at all times. Never had Elrond seen Glorfindel selfish about anything save for when it concerned Erestor, with whom he was almost like a child - demanding, beseeching, always insistent to be loved in return. 

Soon, Erestor's eyes stopped straying, and never again did he look northwest, and because Elrond knew Erestor to be honorable even in his thoughts, he knew that Erestor had also stopped thinking about he who walked along the shores of Middle-Earth, or at least, if he did, he would let Glorfindel know. 

Erestor began to bloom to what he must have been like at the height of his life, back in Doriath beside his king, and even in Arvernien, where he was most trusted to care for the sons of Elwing, daughter of Dior. This, again, came to Elrond as a revelation, for he knew Erestor only as his tutor from the House of Maglor. Never had he seen the light that now shone white and pure from Erestor's face, and although he had known him to be beautiful well enough even before, never had he been the way he was then, in Lindon, beside Glorfindel.


	4. Chapter 4

It was therefore with great joy that Elrond now stood in Imladris to officiate the bonding of his two great friends. Erestor and Glorfindel stood before him and the rest of the congregation, Elves they knew across their long lives and whom they have grown to trust and love as they were also loved and respected in return. 

It certainly took them a while, but ever had other concerns filled their time. Annatar rose in power and waged war against Lindon and the whole of Eriador, just as Glorfindel forewarned. Long was their fight, and many losses did they suffer, and the dawn of the Third Age was filled with tears. But constant had Erestor and Glorfindel's presence been in Elrond's life, as they were constant and faithful to one another throughout those long centuries.

Erestor and Glorfindel faced one another now, hands joined, their eyes intent on the other, matching each other's smiles. Both, who stood almost at the same height, were clad in matching white, save that Erestor's robes and circlet were done in shining mithril, while Glorfindel was adorned in gold. Standing before him thus, Elrond could not help but send a prayer of thanks to the Valar for the presence of these two pillars in his life, his trusted advisors now in title, but so much more in Elrond's heart. 

Looking at them now, his heart overflowing with love and joy for them, it was with great satisfaction that Elrond pronounced: "You are wed. Kiss now as bonded mates, and may the joining of your feä be beautiful and bring you joy unimaginable."

It was Glorfindel who moved, but he stopped midway, and he pulled back slightly to look into Erestor's eyes, a question in his gaze. This is another thing that Elrond had long noticed in Glorfindel. In everything, he seemed to seek Erestor's permission, although not in so many words. Although his actions were strong, never accepting rejections nor defiance once they were done, he never began anything that Erestor would truly dislike. He endeavored never to displease, never to cross any of Erestor's lines, and this he did by watching Erestor and learning his ways. Glorfindel, like Elrond, learned not always to trust what Erestor said at first hearing, striving always to read between the lines, and to watch his face for clues of his true desires. This was something Elrond learned over the centuries, but it was one that Glorfindel seemed to have known almost immediately at first sight of Erestor.

Seeing Glorfindel hesitate, Erestor bestowed to him a smile that was comforting and reassuring. Although there was bemusement in the way he looked at Glorfindel, there also was fondness and affection overflowing, and most certainly, undeniably, love. He placed his hands lightly on Glorfindel's shoulders, and although his voice was low, Elrond was close enough to hear it when he said, "However you want it to be."

At that moment, Elrond was struck by the realization that this was to be their first kiss, here, at their bonding ceremony in front of everyone they loved. He wondered once again how it was that these two seemed to do everything the right way, never straying from the path they deemed was correct. Certainly, they were taught that such things must be done within the confines of a marriage, but after many ages, many Elves have begun to let go of the old ways, and they loved freely and openly nowadays. He wondered then, if once again this was a peculiarity that was inspired by Erestor, ever straight and perfect, or whether Glorfindel himself, for all his passion and seemingly unbridled energy, also just loved this way - honestly, honorably, but always completely and absolutely.

Glorfindel smiled at the answer he received, and wasting no time, he swooped down and claimed his kiss, which, it turned out, he wanted to be hard and possessive. Then again, it could necessarily not be how he wanted it exactly, only he could not help but make it so, for it was his much deserved reward after the long centuries of loving Erestor, his moment of letting go and being true to everything he desired from the one he now held finally in his arms. He held Erestor and pressed him to himself so tightly that it pulled the other off his feet. This drew laughter from the dark-haired counselor, though even that did not break their kiss, and they seemed even to fall deeper into it much to the joy and applause of those around them.

Elrond looked on as his two dearest friends remained oblivious to everyone around them. He saw the way Glorfindel clung to Erestor tightly, with no apparent plans of letting go anytime soon, having captured his prize. He saw also the way Erestor's fingers curled in the material of Glorfindel's robes and the gold of his hair, clinging to him just as tightly. It was Erestor who pressed their lips tighter, he who held Glorfindel in place as he murmured, "Thank you" and "I love you" against those smiling lips, and he whose eyes seemed to glisten in the light.

Together like this, finally, too bright almost they seemed to Elrond, they who stood by him from the first moment of their meetings, who showed him how things should be and who continued to inspire love and admiration in his heart - his very own Telperion and Laurelin, in Lindon, in Imladris, and wherever else fate would take him.

\- fin - 

**Author's Note:**

> Omfg. For a moment there, I scared myself and thought that I just started shipping Maglor and Erestor as I was writing this story. But wait, before I panic, some real notes first:
> 
> I literally woke up Saturday morning with the title "Telperion and Laurelin" in my head, and of course I just had to write it. This was supposed to be a very short drabble, but yeah, weird things happen, and it became a four-part piece in the end.
> 
> This story is also partly inspired by a forum thread that I read a few months ago. I usually picture Erestor as an Elf of Aman, but someone in that thread suggested that he could be an Elf of Doriath and a guardian of Elwing, since such a background juxtaposed well with Glorfindel being from Gondolin and savior of Eärendil. Given Elrond's prominence in the books, and how Erestor and Glorfindel were the two advisors mentioned to be beside Elrond, such an angle gave the trio great symmetry. 
> 
> Now, I never shipped Erestor with anyone else besides Glorfindel, so the story with Maglor came to me as a surprise when it unfolded. It was a bittersweet idea though, and I'm a sucker for those things. I find Maglor's character fascinating, now that I began thinking about him. To be honest, I have ignored him all this time because I favored Maedhros among Feänor's sons, and Maglor had always managed to slink back in the background as if that was where he was most comfortable. Then again, if he was the gentle spirit among the Feänorian sons, this doesn't come as a surprise. I also know that there exists a note about Maglor possibly being married, but we know no details about this. (I swear to God, Professor, it's like you put these footnotes just to spite us!) So, whatever, I took a bit of liberty in this as something like a mistranslation. Elves needed no formal ceremony to be bonded and could have tied themselves to another simply by loving them. I know the act of making love is implied there somewhere, but as Erestor would not have allowed it, then what they had was a failed form of a bond, mutual might love have been. Or, you know, we can always just ignore that footnote, haha!
> 
> Anyway... yes. I will update my work-in-progress soon. Consider this a weird intermission number. :P


End file.
